


Nourished

by zeldadestry



Category: The OC
Genre: Community: 100_women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-15
Updated: 2008-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never got easier, it just got easier to pretend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nourished

**Author's Note:**

> prompt 73, 'Spring', for 100_women fanfic challenge

The almost finished sopa de mariscos smells amazing, the wine has been uncorked, the mango tart is chilling in the fridge, the corn tortillas are warming in the oven, and the green salad with avocado and grapefruit rests on the table.

Seth just called to tell her he won't be coming home tonight. He's got a late meeting in Berkley, but he promises he'll take the very first flight tomorrow morning.

She calls and leaves a message on Ryan's cell. "Hey, Atwood. I'm really sorry, but Cohen can't make it tonight. I'll be here, though. The food's all ready. So come on over, ok?" Please.

This is a weird time of year. Weird, hard, bad, whichever, take your pick. It never got easier, it just got easier to pretend.

Seth doesn't understand. She doesn't want him to understand, because it hurts. Ryan understands, Kaitlin understands, Julie understands. No doubt the anniversary means something to Volchok as well, locked in his cell.

Even when Ryan's seeing someone, they're always gone before this day. It's a pattern that started with the first anniversary. "He's still in love with her," Taylor had said at the time.

Summer thinks she knows what the problem is. Ryan wants to save women and Marissa is the one woman he never can. But it seems like he's still trying, like he can't give up. Won't give up. And she knows what that's like.

This is her dad's old home, the house she grew up in, but that's not why she keeps it, why they stay here when they're in Southern California.

This is a haunted house and she likes it that way.

After the accident, she left Marissa's room as it was for a while. And even after she boxed up all the stuff and took it down to the basement, even after Taylor took over the room, there was still a ghost living there.

Some nights, nights when Seth isn't home, she sleeps there, sleeps with the ghost.

She is halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rings.

"You came," she says, grateful and heart broken, leaning against the door frame. "I didn't think you would."

"Hey," Ryan says, and holds out flowers.

"Thank you." She knows without asking that he picked them up when he bought a bouquet for her grave. White, she guesses, white petals, maybe interspersed with pale pink.

They eat without talking, even without tasting; they drink without toasting.

Near midnight they walk into the room together, sit on either side of the bed in the dark, their backs to each other.

"I can't believe it's been ten years," Ryan says.

"I know."

"I'm tired."

"I know."

"It changes, but it never goes away."

"I know."

"It was my fault."

"No."

"There's so much I should have done different, would have done, if I'd only known."

"We didn't know."

"I loved her."

"I know."

"I still love her."

She wipes at her eyes. "So do I." She stands and he follows. She draws down the covers as he watches.

"Time to rest."

"Yes."

They fall asleep holding hands.

He's up first in the morning, makes breakfast. After she wakes and showers and comes downstairs they eat, together outside, underneath the rising sun.

When Seth walks in, they stand and hug him in turn. They sit him down between them at the table, they serve him eggs and cinnamon toast and fruit salad and coffee, they laugh at all his jokes and they love him whole-heartedly.


End file.
